


Good Things

by cowboykylux



Category: Paterson (2016)
Genre: Comfort, Domestic Fluff, F/M, Picnics, Surprises
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-04
Updated: 2020-08-04
Packaged: 2021-03-06 03:15:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 596
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25596373
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cowboykylux/pseuds/cowboykylux
Summary: After a rough few days in your life, Paterson surprises you by taking you to the waterfalls for a peaceful picnic.
Relationships: Paterson (Paterson)/Reader, Paterson (Paterson)/You
Kudos: 2





	Good Things

You cannot see, blindfolded by soft cotton tied with gentle hands. It’s a surprise, but you’re impatient, and you try tilting your head this way and that, try searching for a crack to peer through, to see where he’s taking you.

You cannot see, but you can feel the rumble of the car you’re in, you can smell the fresh clean air from the rolled down windows as you and Paterson are on your way to a secret destination. Your cheeks hurt from smiling, thrilled by this small deviation from the same ol' routine of life.

You try peeking once more, and Paterson nudges you sweetly with his elbow – he’s cheeky, shy.

“Not yet.” He blushes, and while you can’t see, you know he is, can tell through the tone of his voice, can hear the smile.

You whine playfully, twiddle your thumbs in your lap until the car comes to a soft halt, as the gears shift into park.

He holds your hand as he leads you down a path, gravel crunching underneath your shoes, the warmth from the sun and quiet breezes in your hair. You want to ask where he’s taking you, but he’ll never fess up, you know your lover better than that.

It’s not a far walk, and soon you have your answer, soon strong soft hands are undoing the blindfold. Dutifully, you keep your eyes closed, wanting to savor the last few minutes of anticipation before the grand reveal.

“Open your eyes.” He says, and you do, and you gasp, because before you is a sight so picturesque it almost feels like it should be in a movie, a magazine.

There is a picnic set up on the smooth green grass near the falls, a red and white check blanket, a wicker basket overflowing with flowers and containing yummy sandwiches that Pat made himself, cut the crust off himself, sealed in Ziploc baggies with love himself.

The mist from the falls casts a rainbow into the air, and for a moment, you’re not in Jersey at all, not on Earth at all. For surely this must be Heaven, because Paterson’s hand is in your own, and he is smiling shyly, and it’s the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen.

“Pat! Oh this is beautiful.” You tell him as much, watch the tips of his ears go red as he averts his gaze from mild embarrassment at the praise.

“I thought you might like it.” He says, gives your hand a squeeze, “I know it’s been hard, lately.”

“I’m sorry – ” You immediately say, knowing that you’ve been no fun to be around, knowing the past could days have been rough for a multitude of reasons, knowing knowing knowing.

But he shakes his head, brings your knuckles to his lips for the softest poet’s kiss, and holds your palm against his cheek, nuzzles into your own embrace.

“No! No don’t apologize. I know what it’s like, don’t apologize.” He assures and reassures, “I just wanted to remind you that good things are always coming, even if we don’t think they are.”

You lay down on the blanket and he plucks flowers off their stems to stick in your hair, carefully arranging them, always so careful.

It is quiet and peaceful and calm, by the falls, and as you feed each other bits of jam and fruit and cheese, as you kiss sparkling water off each other’s lips, as you watch clouds and count butterflies, you can’t help but think that yet, the good things are coming – but perhaps they were already there.


End file.
